L’eau Vive

I wasn’t sure whether to book reservations for our stay in Rome after reading some of the Unilocal reviews before our trip, but I am so happy I did! First let me say I have been to the best rated, more expensive restaurants in Italy, and although it is tough to compare the two experiences, I would eat here over any of those any day! The food surpassed both my father and my expectations. I am a picky eater and everything they served us was wonderful. My father is 75 years old. It was his first trip to Rome and he asked to go back to this restaurant two times.
If you are heading to Rome for a religious experience, YOU MUST GO HERE.

There are some places that are world renowned for a very good reason — high quality consistency, reasonable prices, oddly charming entertainment copied nowhere else on the planet. That is what fits L’eau Vive perfectly. My parents excitedly took me there at the insistence of American friends in 2002. It was famous even then, difficult to get a reservation, somewhat hard to find in Rome’s winding, confusion of streets, squares, gelato and terrible traffic. We found our way to it then and I found it with colleagues in October 2014. Still as charming and entertaining, still French/​Italian/​European cuisine with a menu so varied, still tough to get a dinner reservation — a particular choice that popped in ones head is surely featured in one form or another on the tempting menu. We picked and tasted everything from fresh veggies to beef surrounded by puff pastry and a decadent sauce. The unique talent of the missionary workers of the Immaculate Conception are what makes this venue the special place it is. From the helpful service to dining rooms that are pristine, authentic to Rome, I knew I was in for a treat before the food and drink arrived. The pleasing voices of the missionaries, semi-​professional dancing, the entire experience is a total steal. What’s best is the way I remembered L’eau Vive from 2002 is a mirror image of 2014. I love Rome, and love L’eau Vive!

As I happened to be in Rome this week interviewing a Minister hoping to extract some confession from him about Berlusconi’s chances of continuing as Prime Minister — considering all the accusations against the fellow — AND, I promise not once did I mention the dear boy’s alleged ‘nocturnal Gymnastics.’ But, unlike many talkative Italian politicians, I’m pretty certain I’d have prized out more information in a confessional box in the Vatican from a lay priest. Methinks, the particular Minister I was given, may have taken his early training in Sicily from the Boss of all Bosses. Because, a squealer, he was not!
Out of frustration and disappointment, I sought celestial solace by having a meal at a restaurant near the Pantheon run by a sisterhood of missionary Christians from five continents who dressed in Nun’s regalia. Frankly, I wasn’t really sure if they were the genuine item and had any training in spiritual matters, or, had hired their outfits from the local theatrical outlet as a ploy to believers that they could bless their bread. The Italian’s are so creative in such matters, one can never really be sure. But, adopting the, When in Rome philosophy, I relied on ‘faith’ to see me through.
As it turned out, they were the Real McCoy. They even cook all the exotic dishes that are available, as well as serve us peons themselves. In fact, in the middle of gulping down a mouthful of delightful cuisine our Saintly Servers broke into a hymn like chorus and although I knew they’d never make the ‘Albert Hall’ in London, I realized they could very easily open a successful nightclub act in Vegas — the one place in the world where I know there’s even far more preying/​praying done than in Rome. Holy Moses!
I won’t go as far as to say the ‘Nun Chef-​lette’ was a culinary genius, but I was so taken with the theme and concept, in all fairness, I probably forgot what I was eating — or even, whether it was still alive and possibly capable of dishing out an impromptu prayer or incantation as well. Perish the thought!
My duck filet in Grand Marnier sauce with puff-​fried potatoes was more than acceptable and the menu was so vast, I even wondered if the Pope and all his Cardinals might wander forth in the early hours of the morning just to escape the Vatican Pomp to be entertained and feel at home.
When someone mentioned to me that some evenings they even get into a ballet bible session, I immediately thought of Whoopi Goldberg and her Sister Act numbers and wondered if myself and all the patrons around me might be victims of a gigantic leg pull? Would I have cared? Not at all. This was Rome, one of the most scintillating capitals of the world where panache and finesse forgive all. I forgot the ‘closed mouthed politician,’ blessed the establishment and left in a jolly, all forgiving mood.
For an agnostic girl, this lot of Nun’s could have even squeezed a Hail Mary or two out of me!